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Mr. Sad Submarine
Once there was a big old sub,
Wearing a bright yellow coat
His crew of men waved and greeted us
While we slumbered afloat
But the sky turned to gray, she began to cry
Little sweet droplets of woe,
What a gift it was, the ivory sugar pearls,
That soaked our cracked, dry tongues
Mr. Yellow Submarine began to chip
And pools of water filled his lungs
He sunk to the deepest, darkest depths
Of a bone-chilling sea
The poor gentleman, he wailed,
“The tide is turning away from me.”
My friends and I float up here still,
On a rafts made of amber straw
From mother’s lush fingertips
Drinking up light from her golden waterfall
Below, lies his sunken carcass of steel,
Where light dare not shine
His merry crew sprouted gills
While Mr. Submarine was left to brine
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Going to college soon, I often find myself reminiscing on my childhood and feeling as if those memories have slipped out of my reach. Often, childhood is portrayed as a time of wonder and imagination, filtered with bright sunlight and vibrant colors. Growing up, one of my favorite songs was The Beatles' "Yellow Submarine". To me, it represents the youthfulness and glowing quality of my memories, band members singing about an idyllic world living in a yellow submarine. However, lately I associate with the submarine, as a capsule for memories as I look back on them, aged with the tide of years. I wrote this piece to describe the strangeness one feels with the passage of time as their symbol of youthful imagination dims into a relic of the past. Hope you enjoy:)
-Via